


A Trick of the Mind

by realityshifts



Category: Fringe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3385025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityshifts/pseuds/realityshifts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An amnesiac with strange mental abilities takes the team on a wild ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The SUV slid out of the late traffic and up to the curb, which was already occupied by a variety of official vehicles, cop cars and an ambulance. Peter, in the passenger seat watched the flashing lights splashing color all over the wet pavement. The area in front of the steel and glass building was cordoned off. It was too cold and raining too hard for much a crowd but there were still a few people trying to get somewhere and finding the cops and tape an inconvenience. 

Olivia put the car into park and reached for the door.

“Starlight Industries,” Peter said reading the gold leaf letters spread across the front of the facade. From the exterior it said money and power. “Broyles, say what this is about?” 

She shook her head and gave him a tight smile. “Not much.” She said. “Just some kind of a disturbance.” 

Her face was pretty in the dim light of the cab. It was pretty anywhere. 

Peter returned the smile. “Broyles. cryptic as ever.”

Walter fidgeted in the back seat, fussing with the door handle. “What are we waiting for? The fun is inside.”

“Fun,” Peter said getting out and opening the door for his father. “That's the one thing we never seem to find. Disturbing, creepy, even puck your guts out disgusting. But never fun.”

Walter put a hand on his arm. “It's all a matter of perspective, son.”

Then eager as a kid going to a candy store he climbed out and headed for the building.

Inside was big and bright. All white and gold, screaming of too much money and not enough taste to rein it in. His eyes fell on the star attraction. A young woman standing in the middle of the room with her hands cuffed behind her back. An FBI agent stood at her side while a paramedic shown a flashlight in her eyes. This was the it girl. The reason he'd been pulled out of his warm bed. So far neither disturbing nor disgusting. Already the evening was showing more promise than he'd hoped for. 

As they approached, Peter, scanned the scene with a practiced eye. Across the room someone had decided to make a jungle out of potted ferns just to fill up space. A man was huddled under one of these ferns. The other medic was trying to take his blood pressure while he rocked and stared hard at nothing. The uniform he wore pegged him for building security and oddly he was the only one in evidence. A breach like this should have them swarming. Beyond him a small group of office workers stood, herded into a corner of the lobby like sheep. Plenty of feds in FBI wind breakers milled around. But he couldn't pick out anyone who looked to be in charge of the place. No perturbed exec demanding to know how fast they could all be out of his hair, no head of security fussing about getting his toes stepped on. Anyone with any kind of authority was as absent as building security. It felt like a stage with nothing but a handful of extras who looked like they'd rather lose at strip poker than spend another minute here.

Broyles appeared, tall and angular, from some hidden corner and fell into stride, surprising them. The man was a ghost.

Olivia gave him a nod of greeting. “What do we have?”

“At a proximately elven PM this woman,” He indicated the young woman in the cuffs. “came into the building. According to witnesses she appeared disorientated. When the security guard tried to question her, witnesses say he became frightened,” Broyles motioned towards the jungle. “and crawled over there.”

“What scared him?” Olivia asked.

“From what little we've been able to ascertain, he can't remember,” Broyles said. “In fact it appears he has lost his memory, both of the event as well as his own past.”

Walter was suddenly keen. “He has amnesia? Did he receive some kind of physical trauma?”

They stopped just short of the center of things to have a stare. The cuffed woman didn't seem to mind. In fact if she knew they were there at all it wasn't showing.

“Who is she,” Peter asked.

Broyles shook his head.”No ID and as you can see she isn't talking.”

Perter studied her. She was in her twenties. Slender build. Attractive, vacant face. Dark, mid length hair, wet from the rain. Dressed in jeans and a white shirt. No shoes, no coat. She'd been out in the weather long enough to get soaked through. It was almost unnerving to watch her. She was perfectly still, seeming unaware of the activity around her, much less the agent or the paramedic, who was still busy with his exam. It was as if she were somehow removed from scene. Leaving only a hollow shell. Her head was turned slightly. He followed her gaze. It rested on the security guard. He was in the fetal position his face drawn in nameless terror. His lips quivered, soundlessly. The guard, like the young woman, was oblivious to time and place.

“We have security footage of the incident.” Broyles said.

Probably be a real eye opener. Nothing here was making anything like sense.

“I'd like to see it.” Olivia said. 

“If you will come with me.”

Walter never one to concern himself with the appearance of rudeness, pulled away from the group and dashed up to the woman. He put his hands on the her face and peeled one of her eye lids back. The fed almost jumped at him but a quick look from Broyles set him back on his heels like an obedient dog.

“This is Dr. Walter Bishop,” Broyles said. “He's with us.”

“What are her vitals?” This from Walter.

The paramedic shrugged. “Everything checks out normal. But she's unresponsive. Appears to be in a catatonic state.”

“I can see that.” Walter snapped irritably. 

He prodded her eye again, using a flashlight as the medic had. “Pupils fixed and dilated. Perhaps drug induced.” Nothing in her face changed. It was as if she were carved of wax.

Broyles and Olivia moved on. Peter hesitated, torn between watching over his father and satisfying his curiosity.

“Dad, you going to be alright here?”

“Yes, yes, son. Of course.” Was the curt reply.

The security office had the feel of a lot of important things that needed watching. One entire wall was a bank of monitors showing endless hallways and rooms. Most of the doors sported key-less entry. It took clearance to get anywhere near them. And even more to gain access. A building of secrets. And yet security in the lobby was a solitary middle aged man. Something was stinky at Starlight Industries. For now Peter let the thought chew at him silently.

Whatever security normally manned the room had been replaced by feds and techs. The main monitor now replayed video from a few hours ago. The camera gave a wide high angle of the lobby. They watched as the young woman came through the main doors. Her manner was that of someone being chased. Barefoot and wet she instantly drew the attention of the guard. He tried to intercept and she dodged away, but too slow. He caught her by the shoulder. The screen flashed white obscuring the image. And then it was back. The woman was frozen. The guard seemed to collapse before her. He crawled away to his place under the potted fern and curled up into himself. And the woman stood, looking over at him.

“What just happened?” Olivia asked.

“Tech people are working on it.” Broyles said. “It appears to be an energy burst that momentarily overloads the camera.”

“More importantly, what happened to him?” Peter said. The eery, silent interplay flickered on the screen, no more understandable now than it had been when they first walked in.

When Peter and Olivia returned to the lobby the young woman was still a statue, staring at a frightened man. The Fed and the medic looked like they wanted to be elsewhere. Only Walter appeared fascinated with what to the uneducated eye, was akin to watching paint dry.

The paramedic said unhappily. “I would like to get these people to a hospital.”

Olivia raised a hand to stop him. “We'll handle the transportation.” She said. 

“Right, then. I'll leave you to it.” And he did choosing to stand by the fern jungle and confer with his college. 

“Walter.” Perter asked. “Is any of this making sense to you?”

“The young lady is fixating.”

“Fixating? 

“Yes, fixating.” Walter said and slapped the woman sharply across the face.

“Walter!” Peter grabbed for his father's arm but wasn't close enough to stop a second blow, which moved the woman's head a quarter of an inch. 

Perter got a hold of Walter's arm and pulled him back. “What the hell are you doing?”

Then like stone coming to life the woman blinked, her eyes focused on them as sudden awareness flooded her face with fear. 

Under the fern the guard jerked, as if startled from his sleep. He climbed to his feet seeing the scene for the first time. “When the did all this happen?” He yelped.

“Now that is interesting,” Walter said almost to himself.

Nothing was ever what it seamed with Walter. Peter let go of his arm and smoothed his coat in a way of an apology.

“Walter, do you know what this is?” Olivia asked.

“Yes. Well, that is, I may.”

“I will of course need to...” Walter began.

“No,” The woman said suddenly, cutting him off. It surprised them all, like hearing furniture speak. 

She focused her attention on Walter. “I'd rather not go back to the lab. Brain scans and psychotropic drugs aren't really my thing.” 

That was more than a causal guess. “It's almost like she knows you, Walter.” Peter asked. “Any chance she's one of your former subjects?” 

“No, I don't believe so.” He fell to humming, it meant the wheels were turning. “No, sorry,” He said and smiled. “I do believe I would remember someone so charming..” 

“He doesn't know me and I don't want to know him.” Her tone was cold, biting.

Walter wilted a little under it. Peter put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, let's play nice.”

The woman flicked her glance causally at the FBI agent still standing obediently at her side. Without a word he reached behind her for her cuffed wrist, key in hand. Olivia stopped him.

“Wait. Leave those.” she said smiling. “I'll see that you get them back.”

“Sorry, mam.” He gave himself a little shake. “I'm not sure what I was thinking.”

“It's alright. We'll take it from here.” Olivia said reassuringly. 

He went away, glad to be getting distance from the strangeness of this situation. Peter watched him go. Something significant had just happened. He looked back at the cuffed woman. She appeared small and frightened. And yet somehow she felt dangerous. 

“Are you arresting me?” This from the woman, directed at Olivia, who was now someone of interest in her world. 

“We have some questions to ask you about what happened here.” Olivia's voice had a reassuring tone. Offering comfort. “You need to come with us for a while.”

“I don't know where here is.” Her voice quivered, almost pleading. She seemed to shrink, becoming truly vulnerable. Perhaps for the first time “I don't know what happened.”

“Then maybe we could start with your name.” Olivia spoke gently, like someone trying to coax a kitten out of a drain pipe.

The woman closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed as if in thought.

“You can't remember.” Walter chimed in suddenly. 

She glared at him. “No, I can't.”

“She has amnesia.” He added triumphantly.

“That doesn’t make me a candidate for lab rat of the week.”

“I have to say.” Peter said. “It definitely sounds like she knows you.”

“Walter, are you certain she isn't from the trials.” Olivia asked.

Walter shook his head under the weight of the unhappy memory. “No, my dear, she isn't one of mine.” Then he brightened, switching moods with uncanny ease. “There is of course a more logical explication. The young lady is simply reading my mind.”


	2. Chapter 2

Another night in the lab. Dim, smelling of basement and cluttered with the tools of Walter's trade. It was to Peter, a place of uncomfortable familiarity. From the perspective of the uninitiated it could be as terrifying as a medieval dungeon, and this is where they brought traumatized victims. To say life wasn't fair was a monumental understatement. 

Olivia was in the office conferring via phone with Broyles. Walter was engaged in what appeared to be an attempt to rearrange the entire filing system. Leaving Peter, alone with her.

The young woman was perched on a stool, cuffed to the table beside her. Olivia had thoughtfully draped a blanket over her wet shoulders. What she really needed was a hot shower, a change of cloths and to be somewhere else. Preferably somewhere more inviting than Frankenstein's laboratory.

Gene mooed softly from her stall. Peter noted that the woman was looking across at the cow with that with that unsettling focus. There was a quiet tension in her body, reminiscent of the way they had first encountered her, yet she was still mentally present. Grounded in her own mind. That was Peter's impression as he watched her. Whatever had happened at Starlight Industries was not happening here. Gene, on the other end of this hypnotic stare, chewed her cud contently. 

The woman shifted in her seat drawing his attention back to her physical being, he realized she was shivering, even in the relative warmth of the room. 

“Can I get you something?” Peter asked.

She rattled the cuffs, her gaze never wavering from Gene. “Keys.” she said simply.

“I was thinking coffee.” Peter said. “But I'll see what I can do.”

“You're afraid of me.” She said without looking at him. “Maybe you should be.”

The reflexive smile, always there, like a mask. “Why is that?” He asked.

She shrugged almost casually. “I haven't worked it all out yet.” Her gaze settled on him, the way a predator looks at prey. “I'll have to get back to you on that.” 

In that moment, their eyes locked. Hers were deep pools, drawing him in. He didn't mind. It was easy to slip down, even pleasant. Dark, still and so very empty. He was free to drift. To forget. To wait. Something moved, sliding unseen through black waters. 

She looked away, shutting him out. Peter took a step to steady himself as he was slammed back into reality. 

The woman sat as she had before, her shoulders hunched under the blanket, staring at the cow. She wasn't what she appeared to be. Beneath that fragile exterior lay something powerful. It had brushed past him in the darkness. And it scared the crap out of him. Fear made his gut clench as he got away from her. He craved the closeness of another human being. A quick look at the office told him Olivia was still on the phone. His father would do.

Walter was at his desk shuffling through a pile of papers. Scientific notes, yellowed by years. His manner said he wasn't finding what he was looking for. His frustration growing with each unsatisfying page.

Peter glanced back at their prisoner. She seemed safe now. Just a scared girl. Whatever had transpired between them was like the memory of a fading dream. He fought for a moment to recapture it, but the effort caused it to slip farther away, leaving only the vague impression of something important, now forgotten.

“How's it coming, Walter?” He asked, forcing himself back into the moment.

Walter dropped the useless papers. They fell on the desk and the floor. “There is nothing here.” His tone held tension turning to anger. Straining at the tenuous hold on what for him passed as sanity. “Something about this is so familiar. Why can't I find it?”

“What are you looking for?” Peter bent to collect the fallen sheets, “I'll help you find it.”

“Don't you see?” Walter said, exasperated “It's not here.” He swept at the pages on the desk sending more drifting to the floor. His hands went to his head, clutching his skull. “It's not in here, anymore.”

Peter left off trying to clean up and straightened. He put a hand on Walter's shoulder, looking him in the eyes, willing him back from the abyss. “Walter, what's not here?”

“An explanation for what we witnessed tonight.”

“You said she was a mind reader.”

Walter nodded. “Yes of course, that's an elementary deduction based on her obvious insights. But it's hardly a satisfactory explanation of everything that transpired.” 

“You and William Bell did research into telepathy.” 

“Bellie and I did extensive research into the phenomenon.” Walter was relaxing, returning happily to his disturbing past. “We were able to enhance telepathic abilities in promising subjects through hypnosis, sensory deprivation and drug therapy.” 

Peter went back to picking up the scattered papers. 

“But even our best results were simple ESP.” Walter continued. “What we witnessed between this young lady and the security guard was much more.”

Perter said. “You described it as fixating.” He piled the papers on the desk with the rest. “What dose that mean?”

“She was connected to him-to his mind. One consciousness to another.” Walter was alive now. Vibrating with energy. “Her mind overpowered his.”

“That’s why he became frightened when he tried to detain her,” Peter said, seeing the pieces fall into place. “He was experiencing her fear.”

“A transference of emotion.”

Peter's gaze went back to her. A moment ago, when he was talking to her, something had happened. His mind balked stubbornly, refusing to recall. She'd said something, No, she'd done something. 

“Peter?” Walter said. “What's wrong, son?”

He realized his father was looking at him, worry furrowing his brow. Peter shook his head. 

“Nothing.” He lied easily. “You said, transference. The way one computer transfers data to another?” 

“Yes, but I suspect that was not her intention.” Walter continued eagerly. “More of a reflexive action, almost an act of self preservation.”

“What do you mean?”

“She found herself in unfamiliar surroundings, without memory of how she had come to be there. Even her very identity was unknown to her. She was lost in the most profound sense of the word. When the security guard approached her it only added to her sense of panic.” Walter was out of his chair. His eyes danced. “In a desperate attempt to free herself of these overwhelming, crippling, emotions, she poured them into the first available mind.” 

“Walter,” Peter found himself smiling at his father's enthusiasm. “How do you know all this?”

“Such emotions and the desire to rid oneself of them is not unknown to me.” All the joy drained out of him, leaving him old and etched. “Of course it's just a hypothesis. I need more data to make a proper diagnosis.”

“You said this was familiar?” Peter pressed.

“I can’t remember.” Walter sighed bitterly. “The point is something about the abilities Sally is manifesting are familiar.”

As was often the case with Walter, Peter had the sensation that he'd just parachuted in. “Who's Sally?”

“The young lady, Olivia, has manacled to one of my tables.” Walter gestured impatiently in that general direction.

“Wait, Walter.” Peter pointed at the unidentified woman. “You know her name?”

Walter followed his point and frowned. “Don’t be silly, Peter. How could I know that? She’s an amnesiac who is conveniently without identification.”

Peter felt it, that familiar exasperation clawing at his already frayed nerves. He hadn't had enough sleep for one of these conversations. 

Forcing patience, he tried again.“You called her, Sally.” 

“When?”

Walter's innocent confusion caused Peter to bristle. “Just now.” 

“Did I?” Walter became thoughtful, his gaze on the woman. “She must remind me of someone. Perhaps it’s the color of her hair or the handcuffs.”

Somethings you really don't want to know.

Walter gave Peter a little smile. The conversation already forgotten, one of the perks of insanity. “Peter, would you be so kind to call Aspen?” he asked. “I require her assistants.”

The ever misremembered name. Peter didn't have the energy to correct him. Instead he reached obligingly for his phone. 

From across the room the young woman said. “Her name is Astrid.”

Mind reader. Great. Just what every secret organization needs in their midst. On the other end of the phone he heard Astrid's sleepy voice.

Olivia slipped her phone back into her pocket. Through the window she could see Peter, his back was turned, now on the phone himself. Walter was busy preparing for something, hustling about the lab, his movements were animated with the excitement of new discovery. Mad scientist, she thought, it fit.

Her attention went to the woman she'd left handcuffed to the table. She was so young. Just a girl, really. What had been done to make her like this? Troubling spills of her own past came unbidden to her mind, things half remembered, half felt. Fears born of a childhood stolen, replaced with nightmares. Trust forever destroyed. And then another thought, even more troubling, what were they willing to do to do to this woman? How far would their search take them at her expense?

Peter hung up and turned to see her standing in the office window. He gave her a smile and started her way. She stepped out to meet him.

“Astrid's on her way.” He said. “Everything alright?”

The concern in his tone was unusually sweet. She put her knuckles to her lip and shook her head not willing to say and ashamed she wasn't hiding her feelings better. “What does Walter think?” She said, clumsily changing the subject. “Has he come up with anything?”

“You know Walter, he has a theory.” his look was probing but to her relief he left it alone. “What did Broyles have to say?” 

“They took the security guard to the hospital.” She said “He checks out fine. Remembers everything up to the time he intercepted her.”

“We're calling her, Sally.” Peter said.

“Why, Sally?”

Peter shrugged. “She reminds, Walter, of somebody named Sally.”

“Sally McLoud.” The newly minted Sally said. 

They all moved her way. 

Sally pulled her gaze away from the cow. “Walter went to kindergarten with her. Puppy love.”

Walter's face brightened. “I remember now. She had the cutest little dimples.” His voice dropped, becoming conspiratorial. “She shared her cookies with me.”

“It’s both sweet and creepy...” Sally rubbed her cuffed wrist unhappily. “And for what it’s worth, I like cows.”

Olivia gave her a tight smile. “That’s good. Do you remember anything else? Like what happened tonight?”

Sally frowned, obviously annoyed. “I'm not remembering. This is all new information.” She was watching Olivia. “You know what it's like. To be where I am.” Her voice was rising.“You know what he's going to do to me.”

Olivia felt exposed. She did know. The growing terror in the girl's face was like a knife in her own soul. It had to be done. It was her job. She had to do whatever was necessary to uncover the truth.

“That's a freaking lie.” Sally said, responding to the unspoken thoughts. “You know it. Peter knows it. But not him.” She looked at Walter. “He has no idea.”

Walter shrank, once again stung.

“It's going to be alright Sally.” Peter said, moving closer. 

Sally shot him an angry look. “Like hell it is.”

“I will need to run some test.” Walter said, sliding as he did into his old self. Cold and confident. “Brain scans. A chemical work up of her blood. Perhaps a sample of brain tissue...” 

“Don't let him touch me,” Sally pleaded. “He's a monster.” The last was a sob.

Walter said, “She will need to be secured for the procedures.”

Sally jumped up, shedding the blanket and knocking over the stool. The cuffs held her where she was. Her body shook. She watched them wide eyed, straining against her bonds. “I said no!. No drugs, no scans!”

Peter was close enough to touch her, she pulled as far away from his as she could. 

“Stay away from me.” She warned. Her eyes were glassy with fear, her breath panted.

“We’re trying to find out what happened to you.” Olivia kept her voice low, hoping to talk the girl down before they had to use physical force. “We want to help you.”

Sally was having none of it. “The hell you do.” She jabbed her free hand at Walter. “He’s itching to pump me full of drugs and hook me up to some infernal machine. Just to see what happens.”

“You misunderstand.” Walter said. “I don’t want to do these things to you. I have to do them...It’s for science...”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She swung her accusing gaze on Olivia. “You want to know if I’m part of the Pattern. This insane, alternate reality, Massive Dynamic, shape shifter, freak show you’ve committed your life to.”

“So much for secrets.” Peter said.

“I don’t want your damn secrets”. Sally jerked hard against the handcuffs, rattling things on the table.”Stop screaming them at me!” 

“Easy, now Sally.” Peter soothed. He hadn't moved but Olivia could sense the tension in him. He was ready. “You keep this up, you're going to hurt yourself.”

“That's almost funny,” she spit. “I'm in for nothing but hurt.” Trapped, she yanked harder, fighting the steel that held her. The heavy table shifted, something clattered to the floor. “Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone.” She was getting close to panic. Tears welled in her eyes. “Let me go.”

Peter put a hand on her and she swung at him. He ducked the blow, catching her fist. She tried frantically to wrench free.

“Walter, what’s the plan here?” He asked.

Walter was standing a little back, the violence seeming to paralyze him.

“Perhaps a sedative to calm her.” He offered meekly.

Olivia nodded at him. “Good, Walter.” She said, pushing him to action. “Do it.”

He moved away to find what he needed.

“Stay the hell away from me!” This was nearly screamed. More things tipped and fell as she jerked back. Peter was holding her as she struggled against him, sobbing.

Suddenly Sally relaxed into Peter's arms. For a moment Olivia thought the girl must have fainted. But then Sally looked up at Peter. Her expression was eerily calm. Something was there that hadn't been a moment ago. Olivia felt the strength of it. Peter let go of Sally and stepped away.

Olivia asked. “Peter, what are you doing?” 

Peter shook his head, his expression dazed. 

Sally turned her way. Those cool, deep eyes lifted to meet her own. It's quiet here, Olivia thought. She reached into her pocket for the handcuff key. 

Sally held out her manacled wrist, already showing the dull discoloration of bruising from her earlier struggles. Olivia's heart raced. She just needed to get away, then everything would be better. Get somewhere safe. She needed a chance to figure this out.

She was surprised when Peter's hand closed on hers. 

“Olivia, what are you doing?”

Fresh panic leaped in her chest. She couldn't let him stop her. 

“Olivia,” He demanded again, forcing her back. 

Rage surged in her. “Get out of my way!” 

He didn't. His eyes were locked on hers. Olivia let the key slip from her fingers. With Peter's hand like a vice on her own, she tried to reach for her gun.

“Liv,” he said sharply. “You don' t want to do that.”

She did. Her free hand balled into a fist and she took a short step back. 

“Alright.” he said turning her lose and raising his hands in surrender. “No one needs to get hurt.” He looked away from her, across the lab. “Walter, do you think you could hurry it up?”

“I'm going as fast as I can,” Came Walter's curt reply.

Olivia felt a wash of relief as she bent to retrieve the key. She was going to get away without killing anyone. The realization of how close desperation had driven her to it was chilling. As she straightened Peter turned to Sally and smacked her across the face. 

It was like stepping back into her own mind. Olivia looked down at the key in her hand then back at Peter. The implications of the last moments flooded in. New memories were there, carved into her brain. Mingled with thoughts and feelings that were not her own. Peter, she could have shot him.

“Walter, now would be a good time!” Peter shouted.

The sound of voice brought her back. She realized Walter was standing beside her, hypo in hand. 

Sally looked to Walter. She was trying to do it again.

Peter lunged, grabbing Sally from behind, breaking her focus. He pinned her free arm, holding her tight as she struggled wildly. If she hadn't been manacled to the table she would really be giving him a work out. As it was she trashed them both against the table. Things crashed to the floor around them.

“Walter! Now!”

“She must be still.” Walter snapped. “I need to inject the sedative directly into a vein.”

Peter said. “Olivia, a little help, please.”

Olivia was standing there, watching, without thinking. 

“Olivia!”

That got her moving. She sidestepped the woman's flailing legs and together they forced Sally to the floor. She whimpered, her strength exhausted. 

“Where, Walter?” Olivia asked.

“The arm will do.”

As Olivia pushed the sleeve up she found Sally's eye's on her. There was no pull this time. Just a look of hopelessness like a fading light. 

Walter knelt beside them and felt for the vein, pulsing in the girl's arm. “I’m sorry, my dear.” He said.

Sally tensed at the bite of the needle. The fight was over. In an instant Walter's chemicals flooded her blood stream, overpowering her. Her eyes rolled back and she went limp against Peter.

“Well, that was fun.” Peter said bitterly. “Maybe for an encore we could drown some puppies.”


	3. Chapter 3

Peter rubbed his eyes. His head was pounding. This was the let down after the rush. Exhausted did not even begin to cover it. 

Sally lay on a gurney. Apart from the restraints and the IV dripping it's chemical cocktail into her system, she looked peaceful. The threat she'd posed a short time ago was almost impossible to imagine. And yet with a look she'd shut off his mind as easily as flipping a switch. And just as effortlessly she had turned Olivia against him. 

Walter and Astrid were working her over. Hooking her up to one of Walter's infernal machines. Sensors and wire sprouted from her head. Business as usual. 

For his part in this madness, he was calibrating the computer. The read out started, transmitting the signals from sensors, drawing the line that indicated her brain activity. It rose and fell in sharp valleys and peeks. He glanced back at her. She appeared to be unconscious but the readings said otherwise. 

“Walter, are you sure she's under?”

Walter looked up from his work. “Of course, Peter. Why do you ask?”

“According to this she's awake as I am.” Which wasn't saying much.

“Don't be silly.” he said. “I gave her enough Ethallobarbital to put a man twice her size into a coma.”

Of course he did. “Has the concept of overdose never occurred to you?”

“You needn't worry about that, my boy.” Walter smiled broadly. “I have a great deal of experience in these matters.”

“You got me there.” Peter looked back down at the readout. It was still doing it's wild dance. “But her brain activity doesn't say drug induced coma to me.”

Walter came over. “You're right Peter,” he was memorized by the stream of data. “This is extraordinary activity given the level of sedation.”

“Any chance, Sally is just playing opossum?” That was a disquieting thought. Peter found himself glancing over at the girl. 

“No,” Walter said. “It is however probable that her brain functions at a much higher level than what we consider normal.” His voice dropped revealing irritation. “Of course it would have been extremely helpful to have a reading of her brain wave patterns prior to the introduction of the drugs, for comparison.” 

“If you remember, she was less than cooperative.” 

“Yes,” Walter frowned. “she doesn't seem to appreciate the fact that I am simply trying to help her.”

“She can read your mind.” 

He shouldn't have said that. 

Tears welled in Walter's eyes. “She called me a monster.” His voice broke pitifully and his face fell apart, “Is it true, Peter? Am I a monster?” 

Peter shook his head. “No, Walter.” He put his hand on his father's cheek. In these moments he seemed so much like a child.“Let's see what we can do to help Sally.”

“Thank you, son.” Walter smiled, covering Peter's hand with his own. “I best help Atroid finish hooking her up. The sooner we figure out what make's Sally tick the better.”

Walter went eagerly back to work.

Peter closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. He didn't know he'd fallen asleep until he was waking up to the sound of Olivia's voice.

“Hey,” She said.

He opened his eyes to see her standing beside him. 

“Hey.” He said back. “How are you doing?” 

Stupid question. It was obvious just looking at her. Olivia's mental tango with Sally had shaken her far more than she would ever admit. 

She watched as Walter and Astrid continued to wire Sally like a transistor radio.“I wanted to let her go.” 

“It’s mind control.” He said.“You couldn’t help it.”

“That wouldn't have been much of a comfort...”

Something changed in her face. Her eyes glistened. Peter stood without thinking and put his arms around her, drawing her to him. Sally certainly was racking up her share of emotional casualties.

“I could have killed you.”

“That wasn't you.” He said. She was trembling now. Walter and Astrid were looking at them. Walter smiled like a school boy watching a peep show.

“Come on,” Peter said “I'll buy you a cup of coffee.” 

 

Olivia stared out the window at the passing traffic.“I was trying to escape.” The sky was beginning to lighten above the roof tops. “I was so desperate, I would have done anything to get away.” She paused and looked at him.

He gave her a smile. “Believe me I could tell.” 

The waitress came with their coffee, momentarily killing the conversation. When the woman left, Peter sipped his coffee and waited.

Olivia turned her cup, thoughtfully. “Sally is dangerous.” she said finally. 

“We backed her into a corner.” Peter said. “She was trying to survive. Would you or I have done any differently?”

She met his gaze, her eyes were haunted.

“When I was under her influence.” She said searching for understanding. “She wasn't forcing me to do the things I did.”

That unsettled him.“What do you mean?”

“She didn't have to,” Olivia put her knuckles to her mouth. Her hand was shaking. “Because I wasn't really me any more.”

He was reaching for her when she pulled herself together. Seeming to put the emotions that were tearing her apart back in the box she kept them in. She stopped him with a subtle shake of the head. She may as well have built a concrete wall between them. 

“I'm fine.” She said.

He settled back, knowing damn well she wasn't, but playing the game. “So, what are you saying? This is more than mind control?” 

Olivia nodded. 

It sounded ridiculous in his head. He said it anyway. “Body snatching?”

“I was there, fully aware, thinking, feeling. But not as myself.” She paused struggling to find the words. “It was as if in some way I had become Sally.” She said finally.

“Maybe that's a good thing.” He smiled. 

“Why?”

“You know how to handle yourself in a fight. Sally doesn’t, she hesitated. That's probably why I'm still here.”

Olivia considered his words, again turning the steaming cup. “This girl is more powerful than we can imagine.” She closed her eyes as if reaching deep for resolve. “Peter,” She said. “If Walter can't figure out how to undo whatever has been done to her...” She let it trail off.

He knew well enough what she'd meant. “She spends the rest of her life in a drug induced coma.” The disgust rose in his voice. “Locked away in some Massive Dynamic warehouse.”

He saw the pain of a memory coming to the surface. It lived in Olivia's eyes for a moment before she put it down forcefully. “She's been in our heads. She may already know everything we do. We can't risk that information falling into the wrong hands.”

Given what Olivia was clearly thinking it was hard to blame Sally for freaking out. “We are talking about a human being.” The anger was there now, refusing to be repressed.

She looked away. “What choice do we have?”

He rubbed his brow. What choice did they ever have? He let it go for now changing focus.

“So what are we talking here, Cortexaphan?”

Olivia tasted her coffee then set it back down. “She's too young for the trials your father and Bell were conducting.”

That bitter pill. How many times would he have to swallow it? “It's possible someone else is carrying on the work.” 

“ZFT.” She said.

“It's got the ear marks.”

“Or Massive Dynamic.”

“The other shark in the pool.” He said. “There is something else. Starlight Industries. That place is not right.”

“I noticed.” She said. “I'll check into in the morning.”

The sun was already up, morning had come as they talked. Olivia pinched her the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger.

“You look tired.” Peter said. 

“So do you.”

“This is just sleep deprivation.” He said. “I didn't play body swap with Sally.”

“I'm fine.” She lied. “And it wasn't a body swap.”

“Sure.” He said. “Still, I think you should go home, get some sleep.” He was using the disarming, persuasive smile. “I'll go back to the lab and check on the kids.”

To his amazement she nodded. “Alright, deal.” she said. “But just for a couple of hours.”

She was walking through the stacks of wreaked cars. It was all too familiar. She looked around. Then she saw it. That lovely Kayak, floating above the ground. It drifted low overhead. Olivia reached up and ran her fingers along the bottom of the smooth hull as she passed beneath it. It was almost as if she blinked and John was there. 

It was a good dream now. Olivia smiled in her sleep.

John took her into his arms. She kissed him, pulling his face close. It was so wonderful to touch him, to feel him against her. 

“God, I missed you.” she closed her eyes and pressed her face to his cheek, loving the moment.

“I'm always here for you, Liv.” He said.

But it wasn't John's voice. She opened her eyes. Peter was in her arms, looking at her with that smile. 

She sat up in bed pulling the covers to her neck. The impressions of the dream were still with her, as vivid in her conscious mind as they had been in her subconscious. she shuttered. Her phone rang, jarring her.


	4. Chapter 4

Broyles was studying a file when Olivia knocked on his door. He waved her in without looking up. She stepped into the office and closed the glass door quietly behind her. There was a tension about him. More than usual. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Have a seat.”

She settled herself and crossed her legs. Her boss continued his scrutiny of the file. 

“Do you mind telling me what this is about?” Olive asked, with a polite patience she didn't feel.

“This morning Peter Bishop went by Starlight Industries. Were you aware of this?”

“No sir.” She said. It disappointed her a little, but not that much. Peter wasn't given to waiting for permission. “However, Starlight Industries is part of our investigation.” 

“Not anymore.” He gave her his full attention now. “They've turned over a copy of the surveillance tape form last night. The woman you have in custody trespassed on the premisses. There is no connection between the company and this case. Inform Bishop.”

There was something in his tone. This was pressure coming form on high. He turned back to the file, dismissing her without a word. She wasn't going to leave it at that.

“With all do respect, I think this company is hiding something?” 

“You have your orders Agent.” 

She stood. “And you have yours.”

“Agent Dunnan,” He said. “I have those I must answer to.”

“Even at the risk of hamstringing this investigation?” She was angry now, feeling the unseen bonds tighten. “I am doing this job at the behest of those you answer to.” She faced him across his desk. There was no humility in her. No desire to come to heel. “I'm left wondering what that job truly is.”

He stood also, meeting her eyes. “Aid Walter Bishop in what ever way you can to find out who the mystery girl is. What links or ties she may have to the pattern.”

“And if it leads back to Starlight Industries?”

“Walk softly and carry a big stick.” Broyles reclaimed his seat and resumed his study of the file. “You are dismissed.”


	5. Chapter 5

The morning sun was slanting in through the lab's dusty windows. Olivia closed the door behind her quietly. Walter and Astrid were not in sight. Peter was at a computer, his back to her as he watched the surveillance footage from last night. The sight of him brought back the dream. She could feel him in her arms. It made her catch her breath. Damn, she needed more sleep. The idea of looking him in the eye made her almost light headed. Defiantly needed more sleep. 

As Olivia went down the stairs Gene took note of her and looked her way, with large soft eyes. On Peter's screen Olivia watched the same few seconds of footage running in a loop. The flash when the camera went out, then Sally as she was in the lobby. Olivia turned her eyes to the gurney where the girl lay. She was pale and sweating. There was a gleam beneath her eye lashes. Olivia moved closer.

Sally's head turned her way. Her eyes opened. They had a dull drugged look. “He dose that too.” It was scarcely a whisper.

“What?” Olivia leaned down to hear. 

“Dreams about you.” Sally said. “It doesn’t scare him.”

Unnoticed, Peter came up beside Olivia.

“Hey,” he said. “Get some rest?”

She jerked at the sound of his voice.

“You're jumpy as a cat,” Sally said. “Why are you so afraid?”

“What's she talking about?” Peter asked.

Olivia shook her head, forcing the lie. “I don't know.” Peter's presents made her uncomfortable.

Sally half closed her eyes, groggy from the drugs. “Don't think it if you don't want me to hear.” She trashed weakly, “Yell it in my head, then have a coronary, worrying I might tell him.”

“Tell, who?” Peter asked.

Olivia tensed, fearing the next thing that might come out of Sally’s mouth.

Sally fixed Peter with her gaze, “You, sweetie,” she smiled. “If we were someone else, I would kiss you.” 

Peter looked puzzled. He glanced at Olivia and she avoided his eyes. The memory of the dream was stronger than ever, as if it were being dredged to the surface of her consciousness. It played through her mind with intense clarity. No longer a dream, but a memory. And then it was in the present, happening at that very moment. She felt Peter. Felt the fear. 

“It's white.” Sally said. 

The spell broke. The image in Olivia's mind returned to the realm of dreams. She fond her self as she had been, looking down at Sally. Peter, unmoved at her side. Nothing had happened. She shuttered.

“What's white?” Peter was asking.

“The image on the screen. It turns white. Like a power surge. You don't think so,” tears rolled down her cheek. “I can see me. I don't know why I'm there.”

Olivia felt herself relax. The moment had passed, though she could still not trust herself to look at Peter.

“She's right..,” he said. 

Olivia realized she must have looked concerned, because his smile held a question, “about the tape,” he said. “I don't think it's a power surge that causes the camera to go blank. The tape itself has been altered.” 

Starlight Industries was involved. The level of complication was unwelcome if not unexpected.

“Peter,” she said. “Broyles called me into this office this morning. He said Starlight Industries is no longer officially part of this investigation.”

Annoyance creased Peter's brow. He didn't like to be reminded of official shackles he was forced to work under. Or more often, around.

“You and I both know that it is,” he said.

She nodded. “We just have to be judicious.”

“In other words, don't embarrass the brass.” he said contemptuously. 

“Walk softly and carry a big stick,” Sally interjected.

The familiar words jarred Olivia. There were truly no secrets.

Peter gave Sally his nice smile. “Always good advice.”

Sally rolled her head and thrashed against her restraints fitfully, once again consumed by the crippling effects of the drugs being pumped into her blood stream.

“What’s wrong?” Peter laid his hand on her head, trying to comfort her. 

“I can’t feel my toes.”

“Sally, look at me,” Peter said.

Sally’s thrashing become more violent. She muttered incoherently, her eyes rolled back. Olivia recognized the signs. Whatever Walter Bishop was doing to this poor girl was proving to be too much for her system. She was ODing. 

“Peter, we need Walter,” she said.

“He went to the cafeteria,” Peter was trying to hold the girl still. “Astrid's with him.”

Olivia was reaching for her phone when the door opened and Astrid came through carrying a small paper sack.

“Where's Walter,” Olivia demanded.

Taken aback Astrid stopped short, then noticed Sally. 

Walter came in behind her. His face beamed when he spied Olivia. “Olivia, so glad you're here. We have scones. Blueberry. Show her Aster.”

The girl on the table was beginning to shake uncontrollably.

“Walter!” Peter shouted. “She's having a seizure.”

“That's not good.” Walter came down the stairs and pushed past Peter. He peeled back one of Sally’s eye lids. “Bad trip.”

Astrid approached the scene slowly, the sack still clutched tightly in her hand. “Is she alright?”

“No,” Walter said abruptly. “But she will be. I simply need to adjust the dosage.”

Olivia caught a glimpse of the old Walter, cold and in charge.

“Astrid, bring me that syringe.” Walter pointed towards a table. “Peter, adjust the IV to three drips per minute.”

“Walter, that's more not less.” Peter objected. “She's overdosing.”

“Just do as I say, Peter.”

Peter made no move to comply. The two men locked eyes. 

“Why must you always doubt me, son?” 

“This is what happens when you let a mad man practice medicine.”

Olivia heard the words as if Peter had spoken them but his lips never moved. His face revealed that deep anger. Usually so well hidden, now laid bare.

“Confound it, Peter,” Walter snarled. “We don't have time for this. I know what I'm doing. ”

Without another solution at hand Peter grimly did as he was told. Olivia took his place, holding the girl. Astrid was still standing a little way back, horrified at the sight of Sally’s wild convulsing body. 

“The syringe,” Walter snapped. “Now.”

Never taking her eyes off Sally, Astrid complied, handing the syringe to Walter and then quickly withdrawing again. Deftly, Walter found a vein. Whatever the he shot into Sally did it's magic. Instantly she quieted, her body relaxing. 

The crisis, it seem had passed. Olivia drew a deep breath and realized she had been holding it. Peter, still angry, moved away. She caught his eye but he closed her out. It was Astrid who put a comforting hand on his arm and gave him a smile, which he returned. And in doing so, softened, falling back into character. Pretending. He was so damn good at it.

Walter, bent over Sally and checked her vitals. Whatever he found seemed to satisfy him. Under his touch, she stirred. He put a hand on her shoulder then quickly left. The man had no bed side manner. 

Olivia leaned close and said, “you're alright, now.” 

Sally's eyes opened. It was like seeing through a window into an empty room.


	6. Chapter 6

Here again. Laying on a hard table like a side of beef. She didn't know where this was, but she had been here before. Her brain was a foggy mush, with thoughts slogging around in it, most of them were not even hers. The straps that made her stay where she was, felt too tight. They chaffed at her wrist and ankles. Without them she would have made a fine job of rolling off the table and falling on her face. 

“These readings are optimal.” 

Her head lolled that way to see a skinny man in a lab coat, bent over as he looked intently at a screen that revealed the inner workings of her mind. She didn't know him. Though most likely she did. She watched the blue line on the screen, jump, climb and fall. It told her nothing. Whatever mysteries if revealed to him were lost in the haze.

Another man in a lab coat joined the first, watching the dancing line. 

He too, was a familiar stranger. Psychopath with a PhD. He wanted something from her. Always pushing, threatening. Sour as lemon because she wouldn't give it to him. What was it? There was the impression it had been a terrible thing. Odd she didn't remember now. It had seemed so important. Worth dieing for. A person should really remember a thing like that.

“Then why isn't she performing?” He demanded. 

“Because I'm not a trained monkey.” The thought tumbled through her mind. It made her smile or try. Her mouth just twitched. Too many damn drugs. She couldn't make an expression let alone keep track of an idea. The one she'd just had was already part of the gray fog.

“We are getting negative connection with every subject.” The doctor continued. “She is reticent to interact with a living mind.”

That pulled her back. forced her be part of a world that moved too fast for her sluggish brain. She realized that she was seeing the doctor's face because he was bending over her.

“Perhaps we need to decrease the sedation.” This from the lab tech.

“The dosage is fine” The doctor said, his fingers brushed her cheek, “She's just being stubborn.”

She remembered that she hated him. 

He leaned close and whispered in her ear. “You will give me what I want.”

She also remembered what it was he wanted. A demonstration of this party favor her brain had been turned into. Many long hours she'd spent sitting across from some poor soul, whose mind seemed to lay open before her. All she had to do was reach out and take it. And yet she never would. Stubborn. Yes, she had been stubborn. She would rectify that now. 

She looked into the doctor's eyes. They were pale. Bleached stones. The eyes of a dead man. His face changed suddenly. His mouth gaped opened. This is what he wanted. To witness one mind dominating another. His hands went foolishly to his throat and clawed at the nothing that choked him. He'd worked so hard to achieve this. She hoped he was pleased. His eyes bulged as his mind screamed for oxygen. 

Then he fell, breaking her hold. She heard a harsh intake of breath. Not dead. What a shame. 

The tech spun around. He was looking down in horror at his fallen boss. Understanding what she had done, knowing she could do it to him. He wanted to run. He should have, but he hesitated, torn by feelings of duty to her first victim. And in that precious moment of confusion, when he glanced at her, she caught him, gently, as if he were a butterfly. 

Everything in him stopped, all thought, all feeling. He waited. 

She could feel herself slipping back. Too many damn drugs. Like shackles for her mind. They made a simple thing so ridiculously difficult. But not impossible. The tech stepped over his boss and started unstrapping her. His hands shook. She fought to control the fear, to relax. There was time. From the floor she heard the doctor moan. They couldn't worry about him. The tech freed her arms and moved to her feet. 

She sat up. Everything tipped sideways. She braced herself against the crazy roll of the world. Not good. Her hold on the other mind slipped as she fought to regain control of her own. He was fading away. She couldn't move him. He leaned over her, his hands frozen on the strap, realization pouring in as he came back to himself. The thread snapped. He was gone. Her own hands jumped clumsily at the heavy leather strap, fumbling to push it through the buckle. But she couldn't see, couldn't feel. Adrenalin will only take you so far. Rough hands shoved her back down. The straps again bit her wrist. 

As she drifted out of the world she heard him say. “You betray yourself. You've shown me how to get what I want.”

Despair followed her into the darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

Exhaustion it seemed was on a sliding scale and Peter felt himself moving to the high end of it. He didn't have another emotional or physical wrestling match in him. Sally was quiet now, sleeping or rather it's drug induced equivalent. Though it felt wrong, he was relieved. She wasn't currently screwing with anyone's head or having a medical emergency. He could for the moment let his guard down. He rubbed his brow, closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Then Olivia was standing over him. He loved her smile. It softened her lovely face and lit up her eyes. She didn't do it often enough. He smiled back, he didn't feel tired anymore. Life surged in him. 

“Hey,” he said.

She didn't speak. She leaned down, he felt her breath on his face. This wasn't real. It never was. They kissed. He stood and pulled her close as if he could hold the dream. 

“Peter,” Olivia's voice seemed to whisper in his ear. It was coming from beyond the dream, dragging him back to reality. 

Reluctantly he opened his eyes. She was smiling as in the dream, but she looked tired and strained.

“Sorry to wake you,” she said. “You looked so peaceful.”

“Anything but,” he smiled back. “What's happening?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He was still fuzzy. Always happened when he woke too fast, as if his mind was still trapped in the dream. He rubbed his face and sat up straight, willing himself back into reality.

“Broyles told me you went to Starlight Industries this morning.”

“I did,” he watched her face. Trying to see if he'd stepped on her toes.

“Did you find anything?”

“Everything that was missing last night. A whole lot of security and a very hostile executive. I didn't make it past the lobby.”

Olivia nodded. “The front door isn't the only option.” 

“What's on your mind?”

“That I'm not going to let Starlight Industries stone wall this investigation.”

“In that case I suggest you take Sally's advice.”

She looked troubled. “Broyles said that to me in his office.”

He considered it. “Can't keep anything form our little Sally.”

“She does seem to know everything.”

“Except for the answers to a few key questions,” His eyes burned, he closed them for a moment, “Answers that could save us all a lot of trouble.”

“Now where would the fun be in that?” Olivia was smiling again. Full of mischief. “Hey, come with me.”

“Olivia?”

“Where's your sense of adventure?”

She took his hand. He knew it wasn't right. Not even close. He followed her. Walter and Astrid were preoccupied with their scones, they didn't notice the two of them crossing the lab. He glanced at Sally. The same, dead to the world. Or was she? Was this some how her doing? Olivia's hand was warm on his. He felt the eagerness in her as she pulled him through the office door. She let go of him long enough to close the blinds, then she was back, wrapping her arms around him, her body pressed close to his.

“It shouldn't be like this,” he said. But he didn't pull away. His hands were brushing through her hair. 

She was kissing him again and he was kissing her back. He'd fallen into the dream once more or had never woken from it. 

With her face pressed against his cheek she said. “You love her. Shame, she isn't here.”

He pushed her away, “Sally?”

He had that sensation of falling and of waking, suddenly. But the dream remained. 

“Why are you doing this?”

The mirage that looked like Olivia said. “At this particular moment, thanks to your father's pharmaceutical skills, it's the only way I can get in.”

“You have no right to force this illusion on me.”

“This is your dream,” she said. “I'm just manipulating it a little bit.”

He wanted to wake up. Willed himself to. The dream world refused to yield. So real, every detail as he knew it to be. This was beyond the scope of his unconscious mind. This was Sally. And she wasn't letting him go. He felt the panic that comes with a tightening noose.

“No need to freak out,” Sally said. “I'm not doing this for malicious intent.” 

“What are you doing it for?”

“To help.”

“How dose violating my dreams help?” he wasn't hiding his resentment. 

“It is a violation. More than you even realize. I know everything about you. Even things you've forgotten.” With Olivia's face Sally smiled, it was profoundly sad. “I don't know anything about me. And that also is a violation.” 

“Are you looking for revenge?”

She considered. “For the time being, I'll be satisfied with recovering what was taken.”

“And if that's not possible?”

“I haven't decided, yet.”

He became aware of power. It seemed to ripple between them. He'd felt it before, sliding through the darkness in his mind. They had no idea what they were dealing with. Nothing could contain her. Fear rose in him. 

Then she looked into his eyes, “Remember this, because Sally can't,” even in the dream he felt that irresistible pull. “Eric Harpermen wasn't one of the stage actors.”

That was surprisingly not scary. The dream world shifted. He was back at Starlight Industries. Just as it had been last night. He saw the bright, gaudy room. The now familiar woman he knew as Sally, in her self induced stupor. The fern jungle and the security guard. The crowd of unhappy people huddled in a corner. And he saw him. Eric Harpermen. The man who didn't belong.

He walked towards him, getting close enough to see the man's face clearly.

From the center of the room Sally said, “I can almost remember me.”

He stopped, looked over at her. She was Olivia, they were in the office once again.

“Who are you, Sally?”

“I'm not supposed to know,” she flared angrily. 

Peter jerked, coming awake.


End file.
